


The Race

by RoninReverie



Series: Old Kanera Fanfiction [14]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, LOK - Freeform, Lok Marathon, Minor Violence, Race, kanan's speeder, swoop racing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2019-04-26 05:51:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14395659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoninReverie/pseuds/RoninReverie
Summary: The Lok Marathon Arc: 2/2Kanan competes in a dangerous swoop race known as the Lok Marathon, in order to protect the Vesta family from three greedy debt collectors.





	The Race

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr: [Link!](http://roninreverie.tumblr.com/post/148853213159/the-race)
> 
>  **IMPORTANT!** This series was written before the second half of season 2 aired on television, so all content is based on my headcanons after season 1 and the "A New Dawn" novel.
> 
> Also: [Fanart!](http://roninreverie.tumblr.com/post/171235831769/a-daring-swoop-racer-on-the-planet-lok-named-jer)

Soon the dark skies turned to light as the sun came up, and Kanan yawned as he awoke to a small pair of brown boots leading to the Twi’lek pilot with her arms on her hips as she stood hovering above him.

“Rough night?”

He took her hand and she helped him to his feet.

“I was up late last night reading about the race,” he said.

 _“You were studying?”_ She scoffed. _“You?”_

He shot her a smirk. “I prepare  _some_  of the time! It’s what makes me such a  _great_  leader.”

 _“Uh huh…”_  Hera was not swayed. “How late did those two stay up?” She nudged her head to the other corner where Zeb and Sabine slept leaning on the other for support, their mouths drawn open with exhaustion and their faces covered in grease and paint.

“Oh  _wow!_ ” Kanan blinked. “You got me?”

He was so dazed, he couldn’t even remember when they keeled over. The bike was nearly complete. It looked like Sabine was halfway through coating it in paint before she drifted off, a _nd who knows when Zeb fell out of consciousness? They were a mess._

“ _Hmm_?” Hera hummed amused. “Well get cleaned up,  _luv_. Your race is starting soon. Don’t want to be late.”

“You got it,” he saluted with two fingers. “You’re still going to try to sneak everyone to the race behind your sister’s back?”

She nodded.

“Chop’s almost done with those repairs on the  _Ghost,_ so I figure he can cover for us while I sneak Anoon out. I know this race means a lot to him.”

“You’re such a  _bad_ aunt!” Kanan teased.

She laughed quietly for a moment before her smile turned into a frown.

“Kanan…” Hera’s voice held that serious tone that she only ever got when she was worried but trying to not sound troubled at all.

It was enough to make Kanan turn around and stare blankly.

“Yeah?”

“Just—” she paused. “Be careful out there today?”

He nodded slowly and turned back towards the door.  _It was all he could do._  Hundreds had either died or disappeared on this track. It was enough to be a little concerning.  _But,_  with Anoon’s maps and a little luck, Kanan thought he had a pretty good chance as any to win.

* * *

 

Kanan approached the starting line where all the other racers sat, most of them gruff and intimidating, but all of them riding on speeders that were well-kept and looked modified for swoop racing in countless impressive variations. 

There were over twenty racers in the pit, and all of them waited with the exact same goal in their minds.  _They were going to win this race._

Kanan heard the thundering laughter erupt from across the crowd where the Crolute brute from yesterday sat atop his massive bike fit to hold the large man’s mass.

“Well, if it isn’t the outlander?” He snickered. “Thought you would be a bit smarter and run away with some dignity?”

Kanan smirked and tried his best to be civil towards the three sleemos, though he wasn’t exactly sure why?  _Something about being kind making them mad just seemed to be a satisfying alternative?_

“I thought we might have gotten off on the wrong foot yesterday—” he said with a fake smile and an outstretched hand. “Names Kanan Jarrus.”

The three looked to his hand with equal glares of disgust and pity.

The Crolute spat again at Kanan’s gesture, but offered up his name with a reluctant breath of annoyance.

“Grott.”

“Pinyen.”

“Quint”

Pinyen was a particularly tall and intimidating Krish with wiry red hair and dark, rough skin coated in a protective armor of calluses so strong that he could probably take a hit from an AT-AT and live to tell about it.

Quint was just an average human-looking man with little in size and strength in comparison to his two brutish teammates. In fact, Kanan had about a foot over him, though Quint’s overlapping stomach revealed that he won in weight by a few too many drinks, the residual of which was lost in the tangled black mess of a beard that drooped past his chest.

Kanan retracted his hand as soon as a loud warning horn erupted from the loudspeakers. The Lok Marathon was about to begin.

All riders adjusted themselves, and revved their speeder bikes across the sandy dust platform.

“You’re going to hold up your end of the deal when I win, aren’t you?” Kanan smirked competitively.

This prompted more laughter from the three until Grott spoke in a low growl and said, “Kid, if you survive this race, I’ll kiss a Rathtar!”

With a roll of his eyes, Kanan placed all of his focus ahead of him. He had half a mind to say, “ _don’t call me kid”_  but he knew very well that he was no longer a child, and there was a strange satisfaction to that all in its own as well.

This was just like back then… a mission ahead of him, a world full of enemies against him. He imagined the feelings of excitement that he must have had when Caleb Dume and his master were about to lay waste to their enemies with an army of clones by their side. 

 _Until he remembered the rest of that story,_ and he shoved those feelings aside. This was a new time, a new race, and a new man behind the controls. Kanan was racing for more than just a adrenalin rush, he was racing to save a family, and he wasn’t going to fail them.

Another horn erupted, and at the podium where the flagbearer stood high above them, a movement caught Kanan’s eye. It was the orange flag with the symbol of Lok waiving rapidly as a final signal for all of the racers to floor it.

Without another thought, the old ex-jedi launched forward alongside the other racers as an entire ocean of cheers drowned out the loud hums of their vehicles. In moments they were speeding through town and into the vast empty desert, where every sound and spectator soon faded away into the distance.

_Nowhere to go now, but forward._

* * *

 

“Will he be okay?” Sabine wondered.

“Sure,” Kanan knows what he’s doing, right Hera?”

She bit her lip and watched the monitor as the racers cut across the desert.

“How many legs are there in this race again?” Sabine interjected.

“Seventeen,” Anoon informed. “They are already approaching the third one, which is one of the most difficult in the race.  _The Labyrinth._ ”

“What’s so special about it?” Zeb asked.

“Well, it’s this huge maze, and there are multiple different gates where a racer can go in and out,” he said. “Some of the more experienced racers have memorized a path to take, but for newbies it could be a bit harder to maneuver through.”

“Newbies… _like Kanan_ …” Sabine frowned.

“You worry too much,” Zeb waved a hand. “This is nothing compared to that time we were fighting Imps on Bestine—or sneaking around from Gamorreans on Tatooine.”

“Or all the other stuff that we fought off from Mandalore to Bakura…”

“Most of that was your fault,” the Lasat teased with a grin.

“Hey, that’s not fair! I didn’t know that you guys—”

“Kids, kids,” Hera hushed lightly. “We didn’t sneak away from Mala to get caught in the stands arguing.”

“Oh yeah,” Zeb frowned, his ears flattening slightly from the guilt of their escape. “How long do you think she’ll buy Chopper’s diversion?”

“Knowing Mala, not long enough,” Hera groaned. “Luckily, Chopper is a pretty decent actor when he wants to be.  _Got out of a few chores back in his earlier years_  by faking a malfunction.”

“Yeah…” Zeb chuckled, “faking…”

Hera elbowed him, and placed her attention back on the screen. The racers were about to split off and enter the maze. Question is, which path will Kanan choose to follow, and will he be lucky enough to find his way back out?

Right now she could only sit and have faith in him.

_You can do this, Kanan._

* * *

 

_Okay Kanan, you can do this. Just clear your mind. Keep your focus. Calm your thoughts…You know…that is actually a lot to think about! How am I supposed to clear my mind when I have to think about all of that in order to do it!?  
_

Kanan shook away his ramblings and studied the massive walls of the maze drawing closer to their speeding vehicles.

Grott and his gang seem to be taking the leftern most path, while a few other swoop racers are going right. Only three have seemed to take the middle path, and Kanan didn’t need any help recognizing that they were inexperienced by their shaky bike stance. 

_Not that he was one to talk, but still…_

Reluctantly, he swerved to follow good old Grotto and his crew, much to their snarls of aggravation, and the way the three branched off in different directions as soon as they entered.

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” Kanan mumbled to himself.

He sped between the shallow walls that stretched high into the sky, shadowing the earth in a cool darkness hidden away from the sun and the entire outside world of Lok.

Kanan had never seen anything like it.

The sounds of wind vanished the instant he drove inside, and now the only noises were sharp echoes of engines and shouting that trailed along the walls and concealed themselves within the maze.

Kanan tried to follow this noise, only to brake quickly at the sight of a dead end wall. The motion on its own was almost enough to throw him from the bike, but Kanan sat firm, and spun around to try a different tunnel.

Soon after, he found himself blocked and didn’t even slow down as he circled around to try again in another direction.

After too many attempts at repeating this, he was starting to lose his position. There was a sense of darkness in these cool shadows that were overtaking his mind. The unsettling thought of being lost, alone, and unable to help the people he was racing to protect. He’d felt this helplessness countless times before now.

“Easy Kanan,” he coaxed himself. “Clear your mind…”

He did so, and the fearful thoughts were replaced almost instantaneously with helpful ones.

 _Didn’t that old man in the spaceport say something about an oasis in the center of the maze?_ Kanan thought.  _That shouldn’t be too hard, just listen for the sounds of water._

He paused and settled the speeder as he closed his eyes and heard the echoing calls of the speeders rambling through the tunnels of the labyrinth. Hurried zooming and rapid braking collided with one another until a flaunting scream cut through the other noises followed closely by a wall-shaking— 

##  **_CRASH!_ **

Kanan could see the smoke billowing over the tall sand walls as the sense creeped upon him that some unlucky soul had lost more than just the race.

 _You have to keep moving…_ he told himself.  _Focus on the sound of what you’re looking for._

He focused in on the guttural laughter of Grott and in the nearby distance was the slight, yet pleasant sound of running water from the oasis. It was growing louder and closer—in fact, he could almost see the crystal blue waters and smell the fresh air within the luxurious pond.

“Got you!” Kanan grinned and shot off without another worry in his mind.

* * *

 

“He’s doing pretty good, huh?” Zeb smirked.

“It’s already Leg Ten,” Anoon pointed to the map. “The Kedarin Highlands… It’s going to be even more challenging than the maze…”

“The feed is getting fuzzy?” Sabine noticed.

“Is that sand?” Zeb squinted. “The camera is almost completely drowned out.”

“Wait, where’s the feed, I can’t see him?” Hera arched her brows. “What happened?”

“The sandstorm in the mountains blocked the cameras,” Anoon frowned. “It’s very unstable up there. This is the place where they lost track of my dad last year…”

Hera placed a hand over his shoulder and pulled him closer as they watched the sandy static.

“That much cover and that many crooks—that’s the best time to get rid of the competition,” Sabine informed worriedly.

_“Karabasts!”_

_“Kanan…”_

* * *

 

“Anoon!” Mala called. “It’s time for lunch.”

Mechanical sounds of drilling and hammering echoed from the garage as a reply. 

It had been non-stop building since the children had woken up and Kanan went to that awful race. Hera insisted on watching him, much to the protests that Mala offered. She didn’t want Hera going through the same thing that she had with Jer…but Hera was stubborn just like her father, so there was no talking her out of going.

_Still, what would happen to this crazy, reckless man that her sister had found? Was he racing well? Was he already dead? No! She didn’t even want to think about it._

“Anoon!” She shouted, more sternly this time, as she set the bowl down on the counter. “It is very rude to ignore your mother. Come here all three of you and eat.”

 _“Yes Mom?”_  his voice replied, though there was something about it that was off.

Mala frowned and glared towards the back door.

“Your lunch? You kids must be hungry after all that work.”

 _“Uh, yeah sure!”_  the slightly-off voice replied.

“What are you three doing in there?”

 _“No Mom,”_  he said.  _“We’re fine.”_

“Anoon Cham Vesta!” she scolded as she marched towards the garage and entered through the doorway. “You will stop working this instant and come—”

She froze when she saw only the tiny blue hologram of her son talking into the recorder.

 _“No Mom, we’re fine,”_  it said again.

The orange astromech of Hera’s whirled nervously as the hologram vanished, and the droid dropped the drill and hammer that it was flaunting around to make noises.  

“You?” Mala swallowed away her surprise and replaced those feelings with a bubbling anger. “Where is my son?”

_Wah. Buh. Puh. Buh. Wah?_

“Hera!” She ignored his innocent act and stomped her foot. “She took him to the Marathon, didn’t she?”

Chopper shrugged.

 _“Unbelievable!”_  the Twi’lek woman scoffed, turning abruptly as she stormed out of the house cursing in Ryl under her breath.

Chopper jumped and attempted to coax her back into the house.  _Maybe they were just taking a walk?_  He tried to explain  _this_  and  _many_  excuses to her, but it was no use. She was on to them, and she was already heading into the stadium where everyone in town was watching the races.

Her fury was twice as powerful as Hera’s. So now, all Chopper could do was speed past her and try to warn the rest of the crew before she dismantled every last one of them.

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Kanan had just caught up to Grott and his gang, and they were deep in the middle of a vicious sandstorm in the unstable rocky Highlands. 

The air above was dry and hot, prompting lighting to blend with the sand and create jagged pillars of glass that could appear at any moment and impale the racers. 

The original twenty swoop racers, now down to ten as those numbers dwindled with every passing minute in this vicious Lok storm.

Still, Kanan managed to evade the lightning and the large canyon craters that popped up within the tall mountains. He sped forward with just enough room for the gang to see him approaching, and they did not seem too thrilled that he was still alive. 

They all had on goggles and face masks— _something Kanan wished that he had of his own right about now._  The best he could do was pull his collar up over his chin and keep his head down.  

“So you managed to make it this far, outlander!?” Grott chortled.

“What this?” Kanan laughed. “This is nothing.”

“You’re lucky!” He spat back. “But this storm is the best part of the whole race. It’s the perfect time to weed out the competition  _who don’t need_ to be here.”

Screams and sounds of fighting, crashing, and blaster fire erupted from behind him, as Kanan quickly realized that the craters and the lightning were going to be the least of his worries.

“Now let’s take him out boys!”

At the order, they each pulled out their blasters and Kanan reached for his, only to find that it wasn’t where his fingers expected it to be.

“Looking for this?” Quint waved the blaster around. “Swiped it off of you before the race started.”

“Now then, let’s get this over with,” Pinyen grumbled.

The sharp warning in his spine alerted him to swerve left, to which he did and saw a massive electric charge soar right past his face. They had taken the electroshock probe off of a droid and hooked it up to Grott’s bike, one shot from that in this sandstorm and Kanan might as well replace the wounded area of his skin with glass.

Though the Force seemed to have helped in warning him about the prod, it did not appear to want Kanan to avoid the sharp kick from Pinyen as his large boot collided with Kanan’s side. He veered harshly off course, but luckily, he remained intact with the bike as the throbbing in his side calmed to a mere strain. A kick from a Krish was nothing to laugh about.  _Kanan wasn’t laughing, that much was sure._

He shot upward along a small path in the highlands as a poorly made warning sign alerted him of an oncoming dropoff. Kanan yanked the speeder backwards to where only one end of the bike was attached to the ground, and he used the bottom of the vehicle to block debris as he crashed through the ancient wooden warning and along the narrow cliffside.

If that weren’t the least of his worries, Kanan saw the drop off— _or at least,_  he saw where the mountain ended and where the nothingness began. 

With the sandstorm taking its toll, he could not see how far down he was about to plummet, and all he could do was hold steadfast to the speeder, and hope for a miracle.

He pushed forward just as the earth fell out from beneath him and he soared into unseen sand and air. His eyes squinted past the blinding grains of sharp sand and managed to yell out one last quip to lighten his obvious doom to come…

“Oh! I don’t like this!” 

He shouted, and with that, Kanan vanished beneath the might of the raging storm.

* * *

 

Zeb groaned and fidgeted around in his seat.

“I still don’t see them. How far are these Highlands?”

“Pretty far,” Anoon studied the maps closer and trailed the area off with his finger. “I think they should be almost out by about—”

_WUH! WUH! WUH! WAH! BUH! BUH!_

“Chopper!” Sabine gasped. “What are you doing here!?”

Zeb cringed. 

“Uh oh, then that means—

“What do you all think you’re doing!?” Mala erupted. The crew cowered beneath her words and the sturdy hold she had on her own hips, glowering in motherly defiance.

“Mom!” Anoon jumped.

“Mala, now before you get angry—” Hera attempted to ease into the conversation, but she wasn’t about to listen to excuses.

“Oh, I am far past mad, I am furious! Hera, how dare you defy my wishes and allow my son to lie to me in order to watch this race. You tricked me with your droid all morning into thinking you were home! Of all the lowly— _Ugh!_  I thought I made it clear that I did not want him out here today!”

“But Mom…” Anoon stood. “We had to watch Kanan race!”

“That man is a bad influence on you, Anoon!” Mala pointed. “And you as well, sister! You may have been reckless when we were children, but you would have never done something so  _traitorous_ to your own family!”

“Traitorous!?” Hera almost laughed and stood to face her sister’s glare with a sharp new inflection in her tone. “If it weren’t for Kanan, you and Anoon would be at the mercy of your debt collectors! He is saving you and your son from who knows what kind of tyranny! Or have you forgotten that?”

“I did not ask for you to get involved!”

“You didn’t have to!” Hera retorted, her anger melting as she said the words… “You’re family!”

Mala softened.

Zeb, Sabine, Anoon, and a handful of other spectators who were eavesdropping all waited in silence as the two fiery Twi’lek women stood locked in a pit of gazes and deep breaths.

“You don’t turn your back on family,” Hera said, her voice coming out as it normally did,  _soothing and commanding all at once, but with little to no sign of an accent._

With clenched eyes, Mala took a seat and cringed as though she did not want to hear the answer to her own question…“How is he doing?”

“We lost track of him in the Highland sandstorm,” Hera informed, a soft frown appearing on her face as her eyes shut calmly to avoid thinking the worst.

Mala cringed harder.

“But they should be coming out any moment!” Anoon added, his voice young and so full of hope.

“He will come out!” Hera stated, not a sliver of doubt in her voice as her green eyes showed a fire of confidence towards Kanan.

Mala crossed her hands together in front of her face and whispered softly into her pleading fists, “He will come out. He will come out…”

“Look! A racer!” someone shouted and all at once, all eyes were back on the screen. One figure, then two, and three, then six racers all emerged from the dust, but not a single one of them were Kanan.

 _“Hera…”_  Mala started.

“Just wait!”

They did, but nothing came out of the smoke.

“Come on Kanan…” Zeb mumbled.

Sabine was leaning on the chair in front of them as she stretched closer to see. Her eyes were worried, but Sabine was completely silent as she studied the screen intensely.

 _“Wait…”_  Hera murmured again.

Anoon looked up at her, her brows arched and green eyes focused on the cameras. He turned and saw his mother, her hope fading as the memories of last year filled her mind and repeated in this very moment like a nonstop nightmare.

He looked back to the blank monitor as it split off into different racers and their positions, only occasionally flicking back to the edge of the Highlands to check for any surviving racers to emerge.

The entire world seemed to be silent.

Anoon remembered this silence well. It was present as the first winner crossed the finish line, then the next, and the next, until the last one was through the West Gate and they declared the Lok Marathon officially over. This same silence that had once drown out the cheers and remarks as search teams went backwards through the maze to salvage anything they could find that got left behind. The silence as he and his mother waited, even after the seats had started to empty, and the silence that followed them all the way home with so many unanswered questions. They checked the registry, the hospitals, the salvage crews, but they never found him, and that silence did not go away until Anoon saw someone bring them his father’s speeder and park it in their garage almost two weeks later, but there was still no sign of him.

A tear escaped Anoon’s small eye and he lowered his head while crumbling up the map in his hands. 

 _This was all my fault,_ he thought.  _If only I hadn’t told Kanan about this stupid race, then he wouldn’t be—wouldn’t be—_

“Hey!” a voice broke the silence. It was Sabine, and she was smiling and pointing out towards the screen. “Look!”

Mala and Anoon stared awestruck as the tiny green speeder shot out of the sand with blinding speed that no other bike possessed. In fact, in only seconds, Kanan had passed the last place swoop racer, and then the next, and the next. He maneuvered the bike which traveled like a comet through all the other competitors until he caught up to Grott and became one in the final three racers.

At the sight of him, all of the  _Ghost_ crew, Mala, Anoon, and even Chopper stood up and cheered loudly as the rest of the crowd chanted for this mysterious outlandish racer, and his magical green speeder.

* * *

 

“You!?” Grott exclaimed. “That’s impossible! We finished you off in the mountains like Vesta!”

Kanan laughed.

“Turns out there was a small dive in the rocks,” he said, “Sent me flying out of there like a slingshot!  _I should thank you, really?_ ”

Grott growled and grabbed for his blaster.

“I’ll end you!” he roared. “You’re not finishing this race!”

The chill in his spine returned, and Kanan stopped. He stopped the entire speeder bike for just one second—one second long enough to fall completely out of range and watch as Grott and Pinyen shot one another straight off of their own bikes. With that, Kanan was able to speed back up and into first place.

Quint was trailing close behind, an injured Grott, and aggravated Pinyen shouting at him to finish this outlander off as they attempted to get back atop their speeders.

Kanan zigzagged through Quint’s blaster fire as he sped across the Sulphur water of the Grendin River and rounded the final checkpoints of the race. He recognized the area of town that they’d started their adventure, and managed to tip just one single crate behind him that was filled with fruits for the bar by the river.

This crate came right into contact with Quint, who was paying no attention to the race, and too much attention on ending Kanan, and both were sent flying across the street and into a pit of mud. As Quint stomped to a stand, the mud and fruits slid down his body and he slipped backwards, falling into the mess even more so as the remainder of the racers sped around him.

 _Now this was the sort of fun I’ve been missing!_ Kanan cheered to himself as he came to the final checkpoint. 

Without any further fight, he zoomed past the West Gate and into the pits below the uproarious cheering crowd of Lok. The applause was deafening, and the glory could be felt with every face that he saw cheering him on. 

 _It was no wonder Anoon’s father loved winning these races so much?_  He thought.

“Kanan!”

Her melodic voice caught his attention, even through the roaring crowd, and he saw Hera and the others waving and shouting his name from the stands. He saw the smiles on their faces and the light in Anoon’s eyes as he jumped up and down cheering harder than anyone else in the entire platform.

Victoriously, he raised his fist in the air and cheered back at them, and also for himself as the rest of the racers slowly, but surely crossed the finish line. 

He had won.

With that victory, the remainder of the racers filed in, and the great race of Lok was officially declared over.

* * *

 

“That was amazing!” Anoon exclaimed. “No first year racer has ever won the Lok Marathon before! How did you get out of the highlands? How did you know which maze path to choose? How hot was the volcano? Did any beasts try to eat you!? Did they try to fight you in the sandstorm? They were shooting at you on camera, and you were all—” the young Twi’lek boy made shooting and dodging sounds with his mouth and body until his mother laughed and coaxed him down.

“Son please, let the man breathe.”

“That was a good race, Kanan,” Zeb nudged. “Sabine was worried, but I knew you’d be fine the whole time.”

“Oh please!” Sabine scoffed, “You had your nails dug into your seat so hard that you left claw marks on the bench.  _Plus,_  you were shedding so hard, I inhaled a fistfull of purple fur by the time the race was over!”

The two bickered as Hera ran up and delivered a sharp punch on his shoulder.

“Ouch!” He hollered. “What was  _that_ for?”

“You did good,” she smiled. Her voice had actually meant  _“that was for giving me a heart attack, you complete and total reckless idiot”_ but Kanan knew what she was trying to say. Just the sheer sight of her elated smile was enough to make Kanan forget about the surfacing pain that had started welling up all over his body.

That is—until a stinging  _ **SHOCK**_ shot him forward with another yelp of pain and he rubbed at the impact area as the orange droid chirped around him.

“OW! Chopper!”

“He says he’s proud of you too,” Sabine smirked.

 _“Yeesh!”_  He groaned, “I’d hate to see what you guys would do to me if I lost!”

“But you won!” Anoon started back up. “And now you’ll be able to help Mom with the bad men!”

“Yeah Jarrus—” a grumbling voice mocked. “You’ll be able to help with the bad men!”

They approached Mala’s house, Kanan towing the speeder towards the garage, when they caught sight of the three men forming a barrier between them and their home. Everyone stopped.

Grott had been bandaged where Pinyen had shot him, and Quint was completely caked in dried fruit and mud. Pinyen was more or less the same, not a scratch on his body,  _though he was much less happy than before if that were possible?_

“Grott!” Mala jumped, “What are you doing here? You leave us alone!”

“You don’t dare order me around Vesta!” He spat. “I want my money  _AND_ all the interest you owe us!”

“Interest?” She sunk a little. “You never said anything about interest!”

“Well I was trying to be nice before, but now that you have the money, I find my mood is far less charitable!”

Quint threw a rock through the glass window of their house and tsked. “That will have to come out of the rent you owe me as well.”

“And don’t forget the tabs on all the food you stole from my store without paying.”

“You three never had any intention of following through with our deal, did you?” Kanan was not the least bit surprised by this.

“I don’t know what you’re  _talkin’_  about?” Grott lied. “Now hand over our credits you outlander, or else!”

As Mala shielded her son, and the Ghost crew prepared for a fight, Kanan raised his arms in defeat and sighed, “ _Alright, fine, a deal’s a deal_ …follow me, and I’ll split the winnings between the three of you. We can work out the rest later.”

“Kanan!” Sabine and Zeb argued almost in sync.

He winked to Hera and led the three brutes around the corner.

She smirked at him and sighed as she turned back towards the crew with a shrug. “Well you know when he puts his mind to something, there’s no arguing with him?”

“But Hera!”

“What are you thinking!?”

“You can’t just let him—”

_“Ahem!”_

They turned, all faces aside from Hera’s were shocked as they saw the three large men cower in Mala’s presence, and like guilty dogs they knelt over and begged for her forgiveness.

“We were wrong to hold that money over your head!” Grott said. “Consider Jer’s debts paid off and your loans paid in full.”

“We will never charge you or your son for anything ever again!” Pinyen added. “And if you ever need groceries delivered, just let me know and I will personally take care of it.”

“We will even help make repairs and upkeep for your home,” Quint smiled. “As your landlord, it is my job to fix up anything of yours that breaks, completely free of charge of course.”

“Wha—why—um—thank you?” Mala was at a loss for words.

The children all had their mouths gaped open, but Kanan and Hera just grinned as the three continued to offer up donations and other charitable gifts to the baffled Twi’lek woman.

“We’ll be in touch if you ever need anything.”

“Please don’t hesitate to ask!”

“And again, we’re so sorry for our inappropriate behavior earlier…”

They all agreed to these terms and dispersed as everyone else just stood dumbfounded.

Zeb leaned forward and whispered, “ _Karabasts Kanan,_ what did you do to them?”

“What do you mean?” he smirked, twirling his newly retrieved blaster back into its holster. “I’m just a great diplomat.”

“Yeah, no, uh huh…No I’ve seen you negotiate plenty and that wasn’t it, trust me!” Sabine rolled her eyes.

He sulked slightly at the comment and broke off to put the speeder in the garage.

“Well, that’s settled…” Mala sighed contently as she rejoined them inside. “Thank you—I cannot say that enough Kanan Jarrus.”

“Don’t mention it,  _really,_  it’s  _my_ pleasure,” he smiled and Hera placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey Anoon!” Sabine called. “Look what I managed to finish this morning before we left.”

 _“We!”_  Zeb corrected.

“What  _WE_  finished this morning before we left,” Sabine didn’t really argue, but lifted the cloth to reveal Anoon’s very own speeder bike, completely assembled and sparkling with a dazzling and colorful paint job, full of unique designs and symbols that she’d been inspired by around Lok.

“Whoa!” His tiny voice was stuck in the sound of awe as he rushed over, touching the bike and smiling wider than he has in months. His words ran a parsect a minute as he marveled over his new speeder.

Mala smiled with tears in her eyes at the pure happiness in her child.

“You will have to take it out for a test run soon, son,” she said.

“For real!?”

She nodded and chuckled as her son rushed over and hugged her tightly.

“You are going to be a great racer one day, just like your father.”

The crew enjoyed the sweet sight of their moment until Chopper complained that it was time to leave and grumbled all the way out of the garage.

“Oh  _real mature,_  Chopper!” Sabine scolded.

“Way to kill the mood, you overgrown tin can…” Zeb sneered.

Hera only rolled her eyes as Mala approached them and held out her arms.

“Sister, must you leave so soon? Why don’t you stay and rest for the night?”

“You can stay in my room!” Anoon offered. “So you don’t have to sleep in the garage!”

“Sorry you two,” Hera chuckled and stroked Anoon’s face as she stood to part with her sister. “We would love to stay, but we have to get back. We were on an important mission to Lothal. There’s a good job is waiting for us out there, and I don’t want to pass up this opportunity for the rest of my crew.”

“Very well, I understand.” She half smiled and wrapped her sister in a tight hug. “Do come back to visit, alright?”

“Of course!” She hugged back.

“And try to make things up with Cham, okay?”

Hera stopped hugging and got this agitated look on her face.

“ _Yeah_ …” She sighed heavily, her words half-hearted. “ _Alright…_ ”

“Thanks for everything!” Anoon hugged Kanan and then Zeb and Sabine.

There was a long period of hugs and thanks before they finally started to leave the home, they were just about out of the garage, when Mala stopped them.

“Wait! Hold on!”

“What’s wrong?” Kanan turned back.

She stared at Anoon, and to the green speeder, then back to Kanan, and she smiled.

“Here!” She pushed the bike forward with a fair amount of effort. “Please, take this as my thanks.”

“Mala,” Hera gasped, “No. That’s Jer’s bike, we couldn’t—”

“That isn’t necessary, really!” Kanan shook his head.

“I insist,” she said, more confidently now as she motioned. “Anoon has his own now, and he will grow into it just fine. I have seen the happiness that those riding this thing have had, and I don’t want it to be reduced to collecting dust in the corner like it was before. So please, for my husband and for me, I want you to have it.”

“Will you?” Anoon pleaded. “I think it would mean a lot to Dad that someone kept riding his bike and having adventures on it!”

“Who better to have an adventure than  _you_?” Mala smirked.

Hesitantly, Kanan’s hand met with Mala’s as she transferred the speeder to him. 

That happiness radiating from around the bike returned again as he held it. It was as though Jer’s spirit was also offering his second greatest possession over to Kanan as thanks for protecting his first.

“Thank you.”

They all shared a smile, and finally waved goodbye until they could no longer see Mala’s house behind them.

As they made it through town, bidding a farewell to all of Kanan’s new fans, and some familiar faces, the crew made it across the bridge and into the spaceport where the Ghost was already being prepped by Chopper.

“Are you guys ready to get to Lothal?” Hera smirked and took her seat.

Chopper was first to speak up.  _The sooner they got off of this backwater planet, the better!_

“Lot of Imps to fight over there,” Zeb smirked and cracked his knuckles.

“Lot of places in need of a little artistic touch,” Sabine grinned.

“And a lot of good people who are finally going to get a little help,” Kanan met Hera’s eyes and they shared another deal-making nod.

“Well everyone,” she sighed. “Let’s get going.”

The ship took off into space and all seemed peaceful until Chopper erupted with a matter-of-fact beep in his binary.

“What do you mean, the bounty hunter tagged our ship!?” Hera exclaimed.

_WAH! WUH! BER! BUH!_

“What do you mean you forgot to tell us!?” Kanan exploded. “That seems like a pretty important detail!”

“He probably waited for us to get airborne so he could activate the tracker using our own ship’s power?” Sabine guessed. “It’s a pretty common way to cut back on supplies for bounties that you aren’t too particularly invested in.”

“I don’t know whether to be grateful or insulted?” Zeb growled.

“He’s coming up on radar. I think he’s patrolling nearby.” Hera grumbled, her thumb pointed backwards as she yelled. “Chopper get out there and disable that tracker before Fett figures out our position!”

_BUH! BAH! BER! BUH…_

“NOW!” everyone shouted in unison.

Hopefully Lothal would prove to be a little less stressful that just flying from planet to planet.  _Assuming_  the Ghost crew could even make it to Lothal in time to find out.

It wasn’t all bad though. Hera had reconnected with her long lost family, the crew helped a little boy get his dream, and Kanan got to teach a few greedy punks a lesson, while also getting that rush of excitement that he had so longed for in these last few months.

Lothal seemed like a good place for them to be. There were tons of things that they could do for the people, and even more that they could do to hurt the Empire. Everything seemed to be looking up for the Ghost crew.

“Chopper! Hurry up!”

“He’s closing in!”

“I think he saw us!”

_“Karabasts!”_

“Chopper get back inside, we’ll lose him in hyperspace!”

“I say we just go now…” Zeb muttered.

“Don’t tempt her,” Kanan smirked.

“We need to get out of this sector, like now!” Sabine yelled.

“Everybody hang on!”

_…_

_Well… A_ _lmost everything?_


End file.
